


Fast Track

by Severina



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Gapfillerpalooza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-09
Updated: 2004-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-10 19:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yeah, right. Can you imagine? 'Thanks for the awesome sex, Brian, now can I have a peanut butter sandwich to take to school?'"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fast Track

**Author's Note:**

> Episode 102  
> Written for "Gapfillerpalooza"

I skirt around the edge of the concourse, making sure to avoid Mitch and his Cro-Magnon cronies hanging around at the soda machine. Mitch goes out of his way to make my life hell on a good day; I can only imagine what he'll be like after getting threatened with a ass-kicking by Brian Kinney. Fuck, by now that story's probably gotten around the whole school -- as well as what was written on Brian's jeep -- and he'll have it in for me more than usual. I already eat lunch outside whenever I can... I'll probably have to leave campus altogether to avoid the asshole now.

Fuck that.

I square my shoulders, squint against the sun and can just make out Daphne, perched on the rock wall surrounding the football field and already digging food out of her knapsack. She's starting without me. She probably thinks I'm going to leave her high and dry, like I almost did this morning on the steps.

Because I was with Brian.

Because I was out all night. Getting fucked. By Brian.

Holy shit.

I stop practically in mid-step and lean against a tree, half-watching as the senior year football team runs out onto the field. Feel a little... I don't know... light-headed or something. It's just... weird how everything changes so fast. One minute my life's on one track, the one that revolves around art club and video games and hanging out at Daphne's pool on hot weekends. And the next minute, the track veers off, art club and video games seem incredibly lame, and I had sex with Brian Kinney.

It's just... weird. And cool.

I get started again, and by the time I drop onto the wall next to Daphne she's already munching on her pita.

"Where've you been?" she asks.

I duck my head and rummage around in my backpack so she can't see me blush. Images of wet, soapy guys filling my head at inopportune moments tend to make me do that.

"I... uh... I got distracted after gym," I tell her, and it's not exactly a lie. There are advantages to communal showers -- namely, seeing all the cute guys in my class naked and lathered in soap. There are disadvantages too -- namely, seeing all cute guys in my class naked and lathered in soap.

Daph looks at me kind of strange, but then she shrugs and turns her attention back to the field. I'm a little surprised that she doesn't at least ask me about the jeep, or Brian, or... you know... anything. But I guess she's just playing it cool. That's what I'm trying to do, too. Even though every 2.5 seconds I start thinking about how it felt when Brian was inside me. How it _still_ feels. Or I remember the look on Brian's face when he kissed me, or the way his mouth felt on my dick, or the sound of his laughter when he dropped all the limes. He really is the world's worst juggler.

My stomach's rumbling, but I just pull my sketchbook out of my backpack and play around with a few of the drawings I started last week. The one of Chris Hobbes is actually pretty good. He's hot. Not Brian-hot, but fuck, who is?

"Did you hear about Trish?" Daph says after a few minutes of silence.

"Huh?"

Daphne sighs. "Trish! She's been suspended. Three days." She takes a nibble off her sandwich, then, "Guess what she did?"

I shrug.

"They caught her setting all the lab animals free. Rat and toad explosion in there. And Marnie Hoffman says that when they caught her, she started screaming about animal rights and totally freaking out."

I grimace. "She's a flake. Why didn't she just say she wanted out of lab because of... what did you call it... ethical reasons?"

Daphne rolls her eyes. "She's an activist," she says, as if that explains everything. Whatever. I try to turn my attention back to my sketchbook, but I just can't concentrate. And anyway, I have something that totally trumps Trish and her stupid meat is murder shit.

"Guess what I was doing last night?" I say.

"Sleeping, same as me."

I can't keep the grin off my face as I spill. "Having sex. All night. With that guy I met, Brian Kinney. We did it 'til six in the morning."

No reaction. Nada. Zip.

"Well?" I say. "Aren't you shocked?"

"Not really."

"Oh." Well, _that_ was a disappointment. I don't think I'm out of line to be a bit pissed off here. I mean, this is huge. This is sex with Brian Kinney! And Trish and her toads get more of a reaction? That sucks large.

"Well," Daph says, "I kinda figured that you were... you know. Even though you never _told_ me!"

Ohhhhh.

"I'm telling you _now_," I point out. 'Cause come on, what did she expect? It's kind of hard to find the right moment to tell your best friend that you're gay. What was I supposed to say, 'hey, great job on the math quiz, and by the way I fantasize about James Marsters sucking me off.' Yeah, that would go over well.

"Want some of my veggie wrap?"

My stomach leaps for joy, but I try to contain myself and just take a small bite.

"So... what was it like?"

"Well," I laugh, "I started out a tight end but wound up a wide receiver!"

Daph giggles with me, and I know I've been forgiven.

I toss back the football that almost beans me off the head -- yeah, Chris is definitely hot -- and then turn back to Daph. "You got anymore of these wraps?"

She shakes her head. "Dad made my lunch today. I've got fruit."

"Shit. I haven't eaten since dinner last night."

"You? The bottomless pit?" Daph nearly chokes on her last bite of pita. She digs around in her bag and comes up with a granola bar and a slightly smooshed banana, which she hastily shoves into my hand. "Best I can do."

"At this point," I tell her, "granola is actually appealing."

"Why didn't you make a lunch today?"

"Yeah, right. Can you imagine? 'Thanks for the awesome sex, Brian, now can I have a peanut butter sandwich to take to school?'"

"Lame," Daph agrees.

* * *

"Well... do you love him?" Daphne asks as we begin the walk back to class.

"I dunno," I say. Jesus! Like I told her already, we just met! Except... "Yeah. I love him." I feel my face splitting in a goofy grin and I don't even attempt to hold it back. I _feel_ goofy, and weightless, and ready to burst with happiness.

Daphne grins right along with me. "Does he love you?"

"He said he did," I tell her, and fill in the details when she asks. And I'm aware that it sounds kind of strange, but I remember the way his eyes went soft when he said the words, and I remember the way he leaned in so slowly and gently to kiss me, how his hands framed my face, how he seemed to draw the very breath right out of me, and I know he meant it. I know it.

"Wow," Daphne breathes beside me, and I'm drawn back to the present with a snap.

"Yeah. So I need to borrow your car tonight."

"I dunno," Daphne shakes her head, grimacing a little, "my mom still flips out when I take the car out after dark, never mind lending it to a friend."

"Look, I promise I'll get it back in one piece. I have to go back there tonight!"

She can't say No. She just can't. Brian's voice echoes through my head -- _You'll see me in your dreams_ \-- and it's fucking imperative that I see him again. Tonight. Imperative that I remind him of who I am -- of what we had -- She just can't say No!

"Justin--"

"Daph, come on! When have I ever asked you for a favour?" When she just gives me The Look, I hastily rephrase. "Okay, when have I asked you for a favour _lately_?" Then I plaster on my best little lost puppy dog expression and pray.

"Okay," she finally relents, and I learn to breathe again. "But I swear, if my mom finds out I'm telling her you knocked me unconscious and stole the keys."

"Fair enough."

"And you owe me."

I narrow my eyes. "Owe you _what_, exactly?"

"When I decide," Daphne smirks, "I'll let you know."

We pause at the soda machine at the edge of the grounds, both of us reluctant to rejoin the swarm of students heading back into class.

"Daph?"

"Hmm?" She looks up distractedly from trying to choose between orange soda or 7-Up.

"Do you ever... like... fantasize about James Marsters?"

"Spike is hot," she shrugs, "but Angel is waaay sexier."

I sigh. I love her, but she's got the worst taste in men.


End file.
